Racing thoughts, anyone?

Nan has decided she is dying, and would like discuss all the details, if only she could remember her words well enough to explain. "The chemist isn't boiling properly". GG, looking puzzled, "Oh, do you mean the kettle, Nan?". "Yes, the chemist, there's something wrong with it".

She was much more "with it" when I visited yesterday, seemed brighter but still quite confused. Apparently she threatened to hit my mum when I snuck out for a fag though, and between stifling giggles I had this big flashing DEMENTIA sign illuminating my tired brain with all the colours of the rainbow.

The second-to-last thing I want to do is go back to Bleakness-On-Sea and live in the ghost town of bungalows again. They haven't got a pub.
The last thing I want to do is leave Nan on her own.

I'm not even sure that I could look after her. It would just be until we could sell her house and get her into residential care, but with the current housing market, plus having to take a gap from uni, and then find a new place to live afterwards.... Fuck it. Mainly, I don't want to watch her deteriorate.

I've been restricting less this week, and I haven't purged in about a month. I say restricting less, I think it just seems like that because now I have a mini-binge once a day instead of thinly spreading out the calories.

I can't think straight.
GG

Eat-A-Thon

Or Sunday Roast, courtesy of Mum.

Uggghhhhhh. I feel awful.
I downed a bottle of wine to get through the mammoth meal, and I hate the way she points out how thin I am, when inside I'm screaming that I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOT.
I've gained weight again, I'm sure of it. I want the scales, but I can't weigh myself until the morning. I was standing in Topshop yesterday, trying on some ridiculously flamboyant high waisted shimmery gold trousers, size 6, eyeing myself up in the unforgiving changing room mirrors. They weren't hanging off my hipbones. I wanted to cry. I drank two bottles of wine yesterday night, and didn't eat today until the meal this evening.
I'm working on my Shrink to refer me to Mind or another organisation, to see if I can get a free membership to the gym or swimming pool. If I'm doing more exercise, then I'll be more likely to eat little and often. I might even manage breakfast, lunch and dinner for more than two days in a row! My eating habits are ridiculous at the moment, I go from consuming stupid quantities at my Mum's or Boyfriend's house to appear "okay", then I'll starve for a day or so, then it's back to 400 calories of low fat yogurt and cereal, occasionally throwing in some soup or vegetable chilli. Oh, and my drinking is definitely increasing, even though a pint of cider gets me bladdered. The two bottles of wine had a serious effect on Saturday.
It sickens me that the 26 inch jeans I was so proud of squeezing into are now hanging off me, where they once clung in all the right places. I can grab handfuls of material round the bum, and they are so baggy around my calves. I'm dreading my next work placement because nothing is going to fit.

Home Hairdressing

I'm actually quite good at cutting my own hair. I just gave myself a rather fetching fringe, and I'm quite please with the result. I'm also quite pleased that for once I cut my hair because I wanted to, rather than as an alternative to self harm.
I had a bit of a habit of cut/shaving chunks out of my hair whenever I thought that I'd go much to far if I self harmed
I gave myself an all over number 1, pure skinhead chic, when the Citalopram decided it just wouldn't work. I grew to quite like it, but at that point I liked anything which screamed "for fuck's sake just HELP ME".

I'm quite glad I have hair now, and that I've managed to make it look quite, well, pretty.

I also succeeded in eating some noodles today, which have been a banned food for about 6 months, so I'm quite proud of that as well.

I just read Lola Snow's post on TIDYING, and I've been there a few times. Today, however, when I got stressed over revision, I organised my notes - it gave me something to do when I needed something, and tomorrow my revision will be easier.

See. I can find positives. I can be positive.
Hmmm. Fag break!

Truimphant and Sickened

Triumphant at the fact that I got into a pair of gorgeous size 4 grey Dollhouse skinny jeans.

The name "Dollhouse" is perfect, everything in perfect miniature, the way I sat for hours arranging the tiny beds and chairs in mine as a child. Sitting in the spare room at my Grandmother's house, rain pattering against the window, perfecting the contents of my Grampie's labour of love. The wallpaper was remnants from the house, so it was a perfect miniature, until the cat decided that she liked to squeeze through the impossible small window and sleep amongst the matchstick furnishings, tail curling out of the front door.

I got into them. However my large high hipbones gave the impression of FAT. Now, I know that if I out on a stone, I would have curvy hips, an hourglass figure. I know that what I perceive as "overhang" is just my hipbones sticking out over the low rise waistband, and not FAT. However, it still looks too big. Fleeting thoughts of "hip surgery", ways of fixing them, if I wear a corset constantly could I force my hipbones further in? Have a bit sanded off the bone? Is there fat cushioning the sockets, and if so by losing more weight will that knock off that extra half inch?

This is sickening. Mum grimaced as the size 6 dress slid down my depleted chest, and she spent the rest of the day coaxing me to eat. I eat around her, just to stop the fights. I only have to do it once in a while, I make up for it over the next few days, and at the time I push it to the back of my mind. There are ways to get rid of a few extra calories, and I use them. My cat is very useful, and little brother can polish off my dessert.

The worst bit is, I'm not even that small.
I weigh myself first thing in the morning, on the same scales, on the same floor tiles. I weighed myself a while ago, which I know I shouldn't have done, as it was 9pm and I wouldn't get a "true" weight. With my dinner inside me, I appear to have gained 6 pounds since Friday. I know this is probably mainly water weight, food and a small gain, but I feel like a failure.

I know I can be down to a beautiful, previously unreached weight before Christmas, and I might go back and buy those jeans as my motivation.

Then again, that's the exact same reason I left them on the rail.

Homemade vs. Tinned

My Connexions PA is lovely, she helped me sort out some debt issues* today, but she doesn't seem to understand that cooking is a huge effort. I mean, come on, I tried to go to uni in my pajamas today [I had my jeans on over them, but still...]. She suggested making homemade soup, but here's the other big problem - calorie counting.
I have enough trouble trying to ignore working out how much my vegetarian chili contains, let alone adding another mystery-calorie food to my diet.
Obviously, there is no logic to eating disorders. One minute I'm crying over the increase in calories of my usual soup, the next I could be binging on whatever unsafe foods I can get my hands on.
Currently, I only eat 3 different meals. Low fat yogurt and muesli for breakfast, although I've resisted weighing the muesli so far, I do use individual 100-cal yogurt pots so I know how much I'm eating.
Depending on how I am, I may have lunch. That's where the soup comes in, with one or two slices of wholemeal super-seedy bread. Nasty fact, but this is to avoid constipation, which is a bitch. No laxatives allowed in the house, I am not going down that road again.
Dinner is the veggie chili, onion, pepper and mushrooms with a variety of beans, pulses, lentils and tinned tomatoes. The beans and lentils contain Tryptophan, which is used to make Serotonin, and then I chuck in lots of chili powder, because apparently spicy food ups your metabolism?
I haven't got a clue how many calories are in a portion of that. Honest. Ok. I lie. I refuse to work it out properly, but probably around 250?
If I'm feeling extra good [or extra faint!] I chuck in some mozzarella cheese. Once it's melted, it's hard to pick back out, see?
Throw in the occasional binge, and the mandatory "see, I eat normally" meals at my Mum's or Boyfriend's house, and you have it.

I originally dropped 20 pounds by just, well, not eating. Now I'm on this, not purging [much], and not using laxatives and diuretics, I feel a lot better.
I gained back 6 pounds in the first week [ouch!] but I've lost 4 of them. I think I was just on starvation mode, plus water weight...

So. I'm now a size 6.
Hmmm.
I was fine with being an 8. I don't like double figures, but an 8 was nice and comfy. Now I'm a 6, all I can think about is dropping to a 4.
That little voice, pointing out the size 4 little black dress in Adsa, "Look GG, you could be in that by Christmas. Make sure you've got a bit of room though, you don't want to look like you've squeezed into it. Fat bitch."

GG

*When they stuck me on Prozac and everything got a bit sparkly, not only did I start my nursing course, I also got some books out of the library. I don't remember this, but I received a £200 fine last week, and found the offending literature under my bed. I think I still have to pay £75, but we'll see if they take pity on the mentally f*cked. What interests me is how I packed and unpacked them whilst moving house, and still didn't realise?

Can You Make A Career Out Of Starving?

The simple answer to that is yes.
Whether through perseverance, disability benefits or inpatient care, you can "live" with an eating disorder.
However, I don't base my happiness on financial gain. I base it on having time and space. With an eating disorder, all your time is spent calorie counting and fixated on the food you can't eat. You have no personal space, as wherever you are living there are people who are trying to make you eat. And, also, you share all your space with your eating disorder [which takes up a lot of room, while you continually shrink].
You can't enjoy social events, as they tend to involve food, drink, energy... or all three.
You start lying to the people you love, and to yourself.

Today I was honest.
Yes, I'm using diuretics and laxatives.
No, I haven't eaten more than 1000 calories in total over the the past 10 days.
Yes, I'm telling you this because I'm having chest pains, I feel faint, I do faint, I can't get out of bed, let alone go to work. I tried to walk to work yesterday, and I collapsed. Fun, eh?

Dr. Bill Oddie's reply was "for fuck's sake, you stupid fucking girl". He apologised for this explosion but to be honest I think I needed it. The chest pains are because I'm hyperventilating, and my blood sugar levels and blood pressure are very low. My heart sounds ok - for now. The diuretics are making me severely dehydrated, the laxatives aren't very helpful if you aren't eating, and my body is in starvation mode, hence how I put on two pounds by eating half a sandwich. This is because my liver was replacing the starch I forced it to use.

So, I now feel FAT. Very fat. My stomach is not flat. I have consumed food, and it will probably go straight onto me as fat. I went to work though. I completed the whole day, and told them I had a stomach upset. That's why my clothes are hanging off me. I feel skeletal, which is repulsive and gorgeous in the same instant. They offer me food, I have some so nobody suspects the vomiting was self-induced, and I think about what Bill Oddie said today.

I asked what my calorie threshold to keep me above starvation mode would be, and he reckoned around 1100.

That's a big fucking jump.
So, the plan for eating now is to remember, my body needs fuel to work. I'll be on my feet for at least 10 hours a day, walking the wards, and travelling to work.
No collapsing in a ditch in Brentwood.

I'm thinking, I'll have a sensible breakfast, like cereal and low fat natural yogurt, some fruit, a green tea or fruit juice. I'll allow myself 350 calories for breakfast.

My "main" meal will be pasta/rice/jacket potato with some fish/lean meat and vegetables or salad. Either midday, or evening if before 6pm. Allow 400 calories for this meal.

Then I'll have a meal, either lunch or if I'm eating after 6pm, like a sandwich with low-cal bread and filling, or a salad. Allow 250 calories for this meal.

That's 1000. Plus a coffee or two at work, say another 100 calories, and at least 4 pints of water.

There. Lets see how it goes. If I draw up a proper meal chart, I'll let you know how it goes.

I'll post about my placement at the end of the week. Too tired now.
Seriously.
Healthy eating - I'm emphasising both those words, because you can't be healthy without eating.

Although to be brutally honest - I want to get better. I just don't want it to involve food.